Nothing is too dangerous to a pirate
by Laslus
Summary: "If convenient come to the pier. – SH" "If inconvenient, come anyway. Could be dangerous. – SH" "Nothing is too dangerous to a pirate. – MM" "You two are impossible. Meet you in 10. – JW" just a bit of fun, NOT a pirates' AU. kind of spoilers to the first episode on season 3.


John never thought his life was to become so unusual. First his best friend (the man he secretly loved and lusted since the day me met him) committed suicide, then he met the most amazing woman he would ever meet and fell in love with her (and to John's surprise, she fell for him as well). When he thought that everything was back to normal (as if anything could be normal in John Watson life) Sherlock Holmes came back from the dead.

After punching his best friend three times in the face, he couldn't help but panic, realizing it was impossible to ignore that his old feelings for Sherlock were come back. If you asked Mary, she would say the first hint was the shaving. John wouldn't, because he does not, in any circumstance, shave for Sherlock. Mary would also say to him to put that on a t-shirt. If you asked John, he would say the first hint was during the fire, where his last thought (or what he thought would be his last thought) was Sherlock's smile.

Nevertheless, what really matter is that he fell back in love, as if he never had stopped loving Sherlock (and maybe he didn't). However, that wasn't the complicated part, the complicated part was that he also loved Mary, with the same intensity he had always loved (and still loves) his old flatmate, and he just would bear to lose any of them.

—you love him. — Said Mary without taking her eyes off her Kindle while they were both getting ready to sleep.

— what? — Asked John, arching his eyebrows.

— Sherlock. You love him.

He looked at her surprised; she had stop reading, and now was looking at her fiancée's face while a smile on her lips.

— I... I don't... Mary...

She laughed at his embarrassment.

—It's ok, I am not mad, quite the opposite actually, I was hoping you would invite him to dinner.

Mary never though her fiancé could do such a confused face as he did on that moment.

— You know, as in a date. — She tried to explain.

— _You_ want me to ask Sherlock on a date? Of all people? You should know, I am not gay.

She giggled, frowning her nose.

—Oh, yes darling, yes you are, just a little.

He run his hand throw his blushed face, clearly frustrated.

—Ok. So let us say I did like Sherlock in that way, which I don't because I love you, why would you want me to ask him out?

— Because I like him. And I am sure it's quite possible for you to love him and me both.

— Are you... — he chose his words carefully —Are you giving me permission to date Sherlock WHILE I am dating you?

She smiled.

— Yes. I am also asking permission so _I_ can go out with Sherlock; I have this felling that we three mighty work.

— You are insane. — It was the last thing John said that night, before kissing her goodnight.

On the morning after he looked at her over his newspaper in the breakfast table and (with all the courage he had) asked to his fiancée in front of him.

—Did you meant it last night? About giving me permission to date Sherlock?

She smiled at him while blowing cool air over her tea

— As long as you invite him over to dinner on Friday.

The last thing John thought before texting Sherlock was that he had the most amazing fiancée ever.

**XxX**

Six month after that dinner on the most amazing and awkward Friday night, John was sleeping in his gigantic bed, comfortably in between Sherlock and Mary warm bodies. He moaned happy while waking up, smelling the familiar mix of fragrances (Sherlock's hair product, Marys floral perfume and his own body's colony).

—Good Mourning, John — said a deep voice on his left hear before the voice owner's mouth kissed him deeply and slowly.

John broke off the kiss just a few seconds later, putting both of his hands on Sherlock's naked chest, looking at his indescribable eyes.

—Good Morning, Sherlock.

Sherlock (who was apparently very awake) kissed Mary's neck across John's body, waking her up. She moaned with pleasure and smiled at the brunet, giving a lazy kiss before turning to John and kissing him in the exact same way.

—Good mourning boys. Do you remember what day is today?

John, still very much sleepy, frowned his eyebrows while Sherlock rolled his eyes.

— Sincerely Mary I expected more of you then remembering those useless dates. Moreover, John, I must say I am surprised, I expected you to be the kind of person that fills up their minds with senseless stuffs like this.

Mary smirked, ignoring the confused and sleepy John.

—If it is so useless why haven't you deleted it from this mind palace of yours?

— It is a good memory, not unlike john's moustache.

Mary laughed with Sherlock at the memory of that version of Watson. They both still mocked him over the facial hair.

— Why do you always have to bring that shit up? — asked John hiding his face in his pillow.

—Because darling, it was the most stupid idea you ever had — said Mary with a smile still on her lips — but as I was saying, today it our 6 month anniversary and I was thinking of doing something different.

Both of the boys buffed grudgingly in complain.

— Something to do with sex. — She added rolling her eyes, but clearly excited by her own idea.

— We are listening — said John quickly taking his head off the pillow

— I was thinking... I don't know... We could rent a boat and some costumes and have hot pirate sex.

John looked at Mary as if she had lost her mind, But Sherlock's eyes lighted up with the thought. John was scared.

— Yes! Brilliant— Sherlock said kissing her on the lips — I know I guy who owns me a favour, he has this old ship, I can call him, and get us aboard in 3 hours. Two and a half if I put more effort to it.

— My cousin works at this costume shop, — remembered Mary as excited as Sherlock —I can rent three pirate costumes and get them to the pier in less than two and a half.

Watson looked at both of his lovers as if they had grown a second head.

— Are you out of your bloody minds? – Asked John — we are not going to dress up and run in a boat pretending we are...

Sherlock interrupted him, jumping out of the bed completely naked and reaching to his phone.

—No time to talk John, by lunch we should be ready. I am leaving. Text you with the address.

— You... You are... Oh Sherlock put some bloody clothes on at least, you are not about to visit the bloody Queen.

Sherlock giggled at the memory, but searched the room for the clothes he wore yesterday (before john and Mary ripped it of already half way to the bed).  
Mary had already gotten up and was finishing to bottom up her t-shirt before kissing both of the men and leaving the room (and the house) to get a cab to her cousin's costume shop. Sherlock kissed john (who was still naked of the bed) and left in direction of the pier. John found himself alone, in a gigantic bed (they had to buy a bed big enough for the three of them) at 9 am. 221B was probably never so quiet.

—Where did I got myself into this time? — John murmured to himself

He rolled in bed and got up, looking around at the mess they made in what used to be Sherlock's room in 221B. After the three of them get together they had quite a few arguments about what house they were going to meet, because even though John lived with Mary in their apartment he spent most of the time in 221B solving crimes ('Couse after all, the game was back on). Theoretically, John and Mary still lived on their apartment, but most of their clothes and personal objects were in 221B Baker Street nowadays. Truth to be told he and Mary last stepped a foot into the flat a month ago.

He dressed up in his usual jumpers and tried to tide their room up before going to the kitchen for breakfast. Unlike John, Mary was able to reach an agreement with Sherlock about his experiments: He could only use half of the kitchen table and the bottom half of the fridge. Therefore, they were able to have most of their meals on the kitchen (most of them, because sometimes Sherlock ignored the agreement and used the whole table and fridge).

Even if john was used to eat by himself (once Mary sometimes had to leave earlier than usual to help the hospital and Sherlock hardly ever had breakfast) it was incredibly unusual for him to be alone in 221B (if he was not working as a doctor, he was solving crimes with Sherlock); the absence of voices made John uncomfortable. His phone ringed a new text message breaking the silence to John's relief.

_Are Mary and You ok? Sherlock just said _"no" _to a triple murder - GL _

He smiled, Greg found out about their relationship in an awful way, but at the end of the day was happy for the three of them.

"It was a rainy afternoon and Lestrade had texted Sherlock five times about a murder neither he nor his team could understand. Worried about his college (and friend) lack of answers, he drove to 221B Baker Street and let himself in the apartment.

He found Sherlock (to his relief) save and sound, but not quite in a position he would ever want to see him again. Holmes was laying on the couch half-undressed, with a shirtless John Watson above him. They kissing heavily and with passion, John's hands were trying to touch every bit of naked skin of the man under him.

—Greg?! — exclaimed John falling from Sherlock and hitting the ground, picking his t-shirt by his side.

Sherlock seemed to blush, sitting down on the couch, but not bothering getting dressed. A thousands of thoughts wondered around the inspector's mind during that brief, but incredibly awkward silence, however he decided to hang on to what he believed to be the most important one.

—I… I… — Said Lestrade — John, how could you be doing this to Mary? The two of you!

John lost the ability to talk momentarily, staring at his friend by the door. Sherlock, on the other hand, rolled his eyes and instead of explaining the whole situation (that was clearly in need of an explanation), only made it worse.

—Oh please, as if you haven't already cheated on your wife with five different women and two men.

Greg blushed deeply, but did not let that affect him.

—That's not what it looks like — said John recovering his voice, trying to make up for Sherlock lack of tact.

—This is not about me Sherlock — said Greg ignoring John's tentative of explanation — My wife and I… We have problems, but Mary? I have never seen such a perfect women for John like Mary.

—I do agree with that — said Sherlock smirking. — She is indeed the perfect woman for him.

—I… You… You do? — Greg seemed even more confused — but then how could you allow John to cheat on her like that? How can you, John, live with yourself?

Before John could answer (or explain), Mary's voice came from the kitchen.

—You better haven't started all the fun without me, boys.

She showed up in the living room, wearing nothing but a purple shirt that obviously belong to Sherlock; her hair was still wet from the shower.

—Mary? — Greg said looking her from head to toes — you are… You know… What is...?

—Inspector — said Mary no trying to cover her body — what are you doing here?

He blushed deeply and tried to look away from her.

—Sherlock wasn't answering my texts about a murder, I got worried and came to see if was everything ok. When I arrived, I saw those two making out on the couch and… And I thought John was cheating on you, but apparently you are very much aware of this.

She smiles softly at the inspector, blushing a little.

—Mary, John and I are very fine, thank you. You can leave now. The neighbour's son killed the wife, but it was an accident, since he was trying to kill her daughter over the fact that she cheated on him with his sister. It is quite obvious, if you ask me.

—You… You read my texts!

—Of course he did. — said John rolling his eyes.

Greg looked at John and smiled maliciously.

—You're a lucky bastard! You know that? Anyone else would be happy only having either him or her, but you couldn't help but get them both.

John blushed.

—It's all Mary's fault actually.

She smiled, and Greg singed.

—It's quite weird for me, this whole thing about the three of you, but… yeah, if it's what make you guys happy…. I should go, thank you for solving the crime… Sorry for interrupting. I'm really sorry, really, my eyes are still burning.

With that, he left the lovers by themselves, closing the doors behind him. Ever since that day he never entered 221B without being invited."

John answered the text before finishing his breakfast.

_Yeah we are fine, it's our 6__th__ month anniversary, Sherlock and Mary are planning something – JW_

A few minutes later, Greg answered back.

_Do I want to know what they are planning? – GL_

_God, no - JW_

_Good luck with those two. Happy 6 months btw – GL_

_I'll need it, and thanks, I wander how I could handle those two for 6 months – JW_

_Who knows? You must really love those bastards – GL_

_Yeah, I must – JW_

After that, he got no other text from Greg, so he finished his breakfast and looked around the house. Not much had changed since the first time he moved in 221B Baker Street, but he could pinpoint the small details that made that house really theirs. The cluedo's board nailed on the wall by a knife since the day he and Sherlock tried to play it (oh, such a long time ago); the flowers that Mary always bring to the house (never roses, because it reminds her too much of a cemetery); the absence of milk in the fridge (John made a mental-note to buy more); their coats and hats hanging by the door… Dear God he was becoming too sentimental.

Suddenly, he felt bored. It was quite new sensation, he doesn't remember felling bored ever since he moved to 221B almost four years ago (with the exception, maybe, of the two years he believed that Sherlock was dead). His mind remembered him he should not feel bored, once both of his lovers were out to find a way to have "hot pirate sex". He opened his laptop and decided to finish writing about the new case Sherlock solved (Mary and himself actually had a big part on this one).

Two hours later, he got two texts from Sherlock.

_If convenient come to the pier. – SH_

John smiled softly at his phone, knowing what the second text would be before even reading it.

_If inconvenient, come anyway. Could be dangerous. – SH_

Before he could answer the texts, Mary send both of them a text.

_Nothing is too dangerous to a pirate. – MM_

He couldn't help but giggle before closing his laptop and texting.

_You two are impossible. Meet you in 10. – JW_

John got up, put his jacket over the jumper, and screamed to Mrs Huddson that he was leaving and did not know when any of them were coming back before leaving the building and catching the first cab he could.

Mrs Huddson had been, of course, the first person to know about their relationship. She heard weird noises coming from Sherlock apartment (too similar to moans for her not to be worried) and, thanks to her costume of entering the flat without knocking found Sherlock and Mary snogging in the middle of the living room. Sherlock was pressing her up against the wall, kissing her lips with a passion that Mrs Hudson did not know Sherlock had in him, while John watched them both on the couch, his eyes sparkling with love and lust.

—Sherlock? — said the landlady surprised.

The trio jumped in surprise, and Sherlock pulled away from the woman.

—We can explain this — alleged John felling his face get warmer.

The lady giggled.

—Oh, there's no need to darling, I understand it. I'm glad you and Sherlock work everything out.

Sherlock smirked.

—I bet your neighbour doesn't get this from the married ones.

The old woman laughed.

—No, I don't suppose she does, darling. I'll leave you alone, let me know if you need something. — She said before she left the apartment.

When he got on the Pier, it was impossible to miss the ship Sherlock talked about. It was a gigantic, old ship made of wood. He walked faster as he approached the boat, felling excited for some reason he could not pinpoint.

—Aye Sir. Watson — screamed a voice when John got board the ship.

Sherlock was already wearing his costume, and John did not, in any circumstances, become aroused by it. It was an unbelievable thigh trouser, with a white shirt half-coved by a blue trench coat. Over his black curls, he put on a pirate hat, with a blue feather. He also wore a black leather boot. By his side, Mary (also already dressed up) was wearing a short velvet dress with a brown corset, showing a great part of her cleavage. Over her dress, the same kind of trench coat as Sherlock's, this time black, was covering her arms. She also wore black leather boots and that clothing did not, in any circumstances, made John want to jump at her in that exact moment.

—suit up pirate! — Said Mary handing him a costume — captain orders.

With her head she pointed at Sherlock, who smirked at John in a way he clearly did not found sexy. He refused to found any of this sexy.

—I am not dressing up as a pirate!

Sherlock, to his surprise, did not manifest any irritation, and neither did Mary.

—It's fine John. — said the taller man pulling Mary closer by her waist — we understand that you might want to stay. Mary and I will clearly have fun with ourselves. Besides, I am sure you have lots of thing to do. We should be back tomorrow, by afternoon.

John looked at his boyfriend holding his fiancée (fiancée, because both of them agreed it would be unfair to Sherlock for both of them get married without him). She smiled at him with pity before kissing the man at her side.

John sighed, and knew he was hooked. There was no way in hell he would say "no" so Sherlock and Mary could spent 24 hours having fun on a boat without him.

—You bloody bastard —said John before pulling Sherlock by the edge of his collar, breaking of his kiss with Mary only to crash his lips on his.

The kissing was angry, hard and hot. Johns hands messing Sherlock's dark curls and tossing his hat to the floor.

—Hey, enough now, you can finish your business with him as soon as you suit up.

John broke off his kiss with Sherlock to see the smug on the other man's face, before getting the costume and heading downstairs to get dressed.

The captain's chamber was big and comfortable. A king-size bed was laying right in the middle of the room, big enough for the three of them, and he couldn't say that about most beds (not that that had stopped them for using them anyway). As he took off his clothes and dressed with the costume, he felt the ship moving, and deduced that Sherlock was leading the boat up to the river.

His costumes were different from Sherlock's. He had a striped black-and-red trouser, a white shirt that was open on his chest and a brown leather vest to cover it. He tried to convince himself that he was not falling over the enchantment of his lovers' weird kink, but he realized he could no longer lie to himself when Mary showed up in the room wearing, the short velvet dress and the black trench coat over her body.

—Captain is calling sire.

And he knew he was completely fucked when he answered without thinking.

—Aye, Madam.


End file.
